Two Terras

Bombardment

When the shells struck everything stopped. What animals were left turned their heads from the skies and began to flee, the glowing projectiles streaked towards the Earth like the embers of a raging fire above. They bypassed the atmosphere and began to play their drumbeat on the surface. The EDF's command posts and bunker HQs registered the impacts, within minutes they detected the source. Then, they waited. No strangers to weapons from above, but strangers to the hell the imperium could unleash. Imperial forces watched from trenches, vehicles, foxholes, or similar positions. They watched the full fury of the Emperor rain down on distant enemies. Those in the Kendall Armoured peeked from the hatches of their tanks. The Scions stared out from Tauroxes and Valkyries, impassive and cold. Purple Cadian eyes did not blink as fire consumed the earth and plumes of dirt were thrown miles into the air. Carcosian Riflemen adjusted their masks and rifles, enjoying the fireworks. Mekband Irregulars looked on with silence, eager for the order of their commissars to charge headlong into the fray once the shells ceased. Adeptus Astartes watched through green eyelenses and magnoculars, some watched from the decks of the captured Supercarrier Despina. The majority of combatants on the world however, could not pause and watch. For they were enthralled in war, to them, the impacts were simply another grenade, another shell.   

Admiral Castius rocked with every rumble of his vessel, every massive rock of the plasma macro cannons disgorging their deadly rain. His eyes shut, and his brain tuned out. Castius slumped in his chair, breathing softly. "My lord? My lord!" Castius shot up at his commodore's call, fatigue leaking away. "Yes?" He asked, voice shaky. "The x-actually it can wait, I think you need rest." Castius fixed Peggi with a long stare. "My lord please, you need rest." She said, eyes pleading. "Very well, commodore Peggi has command." Castius unhooked himself from the throne's mechanisms and shakily stood, he did not stretch, only smoothing his uniform and walking to the door. The Armsmen opened the heavy bulkhead doors and let their Admiral pass. He gratefully strode past, he decided to take the service pathway, not wanting anyone to see him as weak as he was. The lift would be of lower quality but certainly isolated. Instead, two voidsmen were chattering loudly while they loaded machine parts into the lift. They continued talking and complaining about things the Admiral couldn't imagine. Then they noticed him, his honors, his medals, the numerous status symbols. Castius thought their backs would snap from the force of the salute. "A-Admiral! My Lord! We-er-had'n seen you see sir, we be real sorry sir!" Castius gave a salute of his own, making the voidsmen beam ever harder. "Mind if I join you gentlemen?" The voidsmen nodded vigorously. Castius rode with the men for a while before one shyly stepped forward. "I-My lord? Do you mind?" Castius looked over and raised an eyebrow. "Well sir, the guys back on XXIII-deck won't ever believe I saw the Admiral! I-er-could you sign this for me?" 

The man produced a well worn copy of an Ecclesiarchal tome. Castius nodded and took it, he produced a pen from an inseam pocket and flipped the book open. It landed on a page with a picture of a woman and a child. They were smiling happily with an enormous macrocannon in the background, the woman's face was thin but aesthetically pleasing. Even with small amounts of machine grease and soot staining her face. The child was the same, a little boy of what Castius guessed to be 10 years old. "Your son?" Castius asked and the man nodded, "Aye sir, wants to be Armsman." Castius laughed. "That young? Impressive." The man rubbed his neck and smiled. "He'll be 18 in three months."  Castius looked down at the boy, then he flipped to the end page  and signed his name. "I wish you and your family luck voidsman." Then he paused and handed the man his pen as well, "For your boy." The man smiled and stepped back, He looked down at the pen in reverence. Castius enjoyed the rest of the ride in silence. The lift clattered to a stop, Castius stepped off and saluted the men. He turned and strode to his quarters, and proceeded to immediately fall asleep in his uniform. 

"As far as we know, we are the last leadership the EDF has." General Baggan said, his thick british accent cutting through the silence of the cramped conference room. Dust rained from the bunker's ceiling as the orbital bombardment continued. Various officers and staff wearing the digital camouflage of the EDF faced him, young faces, naive and untested faces. "Russia, South America, Canada, most of Africa. Gone. Any and all forces present there have been wiped out. Bomber support is limited with enemy strike craft ruling the air, instruments we have left read large amounts of support structures and drop craft raining in from orbit as we speak. Our ground assets not fighting are either obliterated or sieged by Ravagers. I won't lie lads and lasses, we are well and proper fucked. The enemy came out of nowhere, they've broken the backs of both us and the Ravagers. They've taken over half of Europe and are slowly grinding across Africa, oil reserves in the Middle East have been ignored and wiped of the face of the Earth. But you already know all of this, what you don't know is what we're gonna do about it. And I'll be honest neither do I. We've survived one alien invasion though, and I'm damn sure we can survive another." The General clapped his hands and looked around, eager and equally disheartened expressions looked back at him. "We've got a lot of work to do men, and little time for it." His last statement was echoed with mixed responses. Baggan had never been one for speeches, and every word being intoned by the rumble of orbital artillery did not help at all. Either way he would keep his people alive, for as long as was possible.